


No Bed Of Rose's: The Compost Pile

by HorizonTheTransient



Series: No Bed Of Rose's [2]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Omake, Side Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24370666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorizonTheTransient/pseuds/HorizonTheTransient
Summary: A collection of snips, scraps, and purpose-made omakes. None of these are canon to No Bed Of Rose's.
Series: No Bed Of Rose's [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759570
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	No Bed Of Rose's: The Compost Pile

"I'm sorry about how I treated you last Sunday," Shielder said as his mother escorted him into the diner one fine Saturday morning at One AM. "That was completely inappropriate, and I won't do it again."

"Eh, it's all water under the bridge," I said, waving it off. Kid was, what, thirteen? "Middle school was a dark time for everyone. I mean, hell,  _ I _ sure remember doing worse than that. It's a pretty good story-" I glanced momentarily at Photon Mom, who looked more than a little disapproving. "-provided you don't emulate any part of it."

"...Go on?" Shielder said carefully, sitting down at the bar.

"So, back in middle school, I played D&D with my sister and her friends, and the dungeon master, this big burly Australian dude named Tim, taught me how to make caltrops out of staples," I said. "In case you're not aware, a caltrop is four metal spikes, joined in such a way that three touch the ground and one points up, no matter how it falls. Beautifully cruel, and surprisingly still relevant today, if you make 'em out of hollow metal pipe and use 'em to puncture tires.

"Now, this may  _ surprise _ you, but my scrawny nerd self got bullied a lot in middle school. And because I'm also kind of an asshole, I didn't exactly take this lying down. So in English class, when I was sitting somewhere with unsupervised access to a stapler... I got to work making a handful of caltrops, because my next class was Tech Ed- what they called woodshop where I went- and that's the class I shared with this one jerk in particular.

"I was tall, even back then, and I didn't really have friends, so that combination of moving fast and having nowhere better to be meant I showed up first when class was starting. I found the jerk's usual seat, dropped the caltrops in his chair... and waited. The classroom filled up with everyone else, but he wasn't there. I waited. The bell rang. I realized I'd have to clean those up at some point if I didn't want to torment someone I didn't even know and who probably didn't deserve it. I waited.

"Then, I heard his footsteps coming down the hall, rushing to get in before he was counted tardy. He's a big dude. Our middle school had a football team for some godforsaken reason, and he was on it. And he runs into the room,  _ flings _ himself into his seat..."

I paused, allowing Shielder to inhale sharply through his teeth, and Lady Photon to palm her face semi-discreetly.

"The teacher pulls out his copy of the school rules," I said. "He lists off every rule I just broke. He looks me dead in my misty, mirthful eyes. And he  _ closes the book _ and says  _ 'Too bad we don't know who did it.'" _

"You didn't get in trouble for it?" Shielder asked.

"Well, see, the teacher hated the kid too," I said. "Anyhow, no, I will not teach you how to make staple caltrops." Lady Photon sighed in relief, barely audible. "I'll teach your cousin, and then when she teaches you, it's not my fault  _ and _ you can have a fun family bonding activity."

"You are a menace to society and I regret making my son apologize to you," Lady Photon said.

"Aw, you say the nicest things," I said with a sickly sweet grin.


End file.
